Sleep On the Floor
by PaperFrames
Summary: AU. "When are you gonna run away with me, Olivia Pope?" Fitzgerald Grant asked for the thousandth time in the span of twenty minutes.
1. Virginia

**A/N:** Honestly have no idea where this came from other than me listening to my Olitz playlist to finish the update for Metanoia. My mind demanded I go here instead.

Metanoia will hopefully be up soon so long as my mind stays focused.

Enjoy some more AU Olitz since that's the only time they're allowed to be happy.

This is far different than anything I've written for these two, so I hope you enjoy.

Yes, there will be more.

Also, it's 1:12am, there will be mistakes my tired eyes didn't catch, so I apologise and I'll try to fix them in the morning.

Lyrics belong to the Lumineers.

* * *

"When are you gonna run away with me, Olivia Pope?" Fitzgerald Grant asked for the thousandth time in the span of twenty minutes. He stood, arms slung over the white picket fence, in front of Olivia's home.

The summer sun beamed down on his back, boring through his white cotton t-shirt. Sweat slickened his skin and he threw her a wolfish grin. He knew he was playing with fire by being here, on Elijah Pope's property, eyes glued on Eli's most prized possession with nothing but impure thoughts running through his head.

"Run away with me," he beckoned once more.

Olivia rolled her eyes, cheeks hot as she stepped down off her porch, white Keds moving swiftly down the walkway.

She was a vision; truly a sight for sore eyes dressed in a cotton white dress that hits just above her knees. Her deep brown skin glistens against the midday sun and her curly hair has been slicked back and pinned to the top of her head in a large bun.

Oh, how Fitz wished he could unpin it and watch as the curls fell, growing in the summer heat. He loved her hair in whatever way she chose to wear it, but seeing it in its natural state was such a rare occurrence and it did something to him.

"Do you have a death wish, Fitzgerald, or are you feeling extra lucky today?" Olivia questioned, tilting her head as she meets him at the fence. She placed her delicate hands on his on top of his arms and leaned in to give him a quick chaste kiss on the lips.

Fitz grinned against her mouth and pouts when she pulls away.

"Shouldn't you be heading back across town? My dad will be home any moment and I'd rather not have to step in between you and a double barrel shotgun."

He chuckled, but Fitz knows she wasn't joking.

Mecklenburg's first Black sheriff, Eli Pope was not exactly a magnanimous man when it came to his only child, his baby girl. And at 20 years old, Olivia Pope was the apple of her father's eye. Already a college graduate and gearing up for Harvard Law in the fall, Eli often talked about how she couldn't afford any distractions on her path to greatness.

Twenty-eight-year-old Fitzgerald Grant, the only son of the town patriarch, was a distraction.

The two had been secretly dating for the last six months and Eli made it no secret his disdain for the Grant clan. Entitled, self-righteous, and racist all had been adjectives used by Olivia's father to describe her boyfriend's family. Most of the descriptors fit his family to a T, but Fitz had been the anomaly. Too bad Eli Pope didn't see it that way.

"You think your dad would actually shoot me?" Fitz wondered with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Without a doubt." Olivia didn't hesitate in her reply. Her father could be a frightening man.

Fitz shuddered. "See, this is exactly why I say we should run away. Just you and me. Leave Virginia. Head out to California. We could do it. How many times have you told me you don't want to start Harvard in the fall?"

"Enough to know that I could say it a trillion and it still wouldn't matter. Besides, it's not that I don't _want_ to go to school; I just don't want to go _now_. I'm twenty, I graduated summa cum laude in three years from Princeton. Don't I deserve a break?" Her voice was thick with frustration and Fitz wiggled out of her hold. He brought a hand up to cup her jaw and leant over the fence to kiss her forehead.

Olivia Pope was the hardest working woman - no, person - he knew. For years, he'd been hearing all about the one girl wrecking crew from his father, who'd heard it through the Chase City grapevine. The daughter of a now retired four-star army general, Olivia's Pope's accomplishments were always the talk of the town (National _and_ World swimming champion by the age of 18; accepted by seven of eight Ivy Leagues (she hadn't applied to the University of Pennsylvania); Princeton Honorific Fellowship recipient; published author. At twenty, Olivia had accomplished things most twice her age had only dreamed. But she was wearing out - down. It was obvious in the way her shoulders sunk at the simple mention of Harvard.

"So, run with me." he insisted. She didn't think he was serious. Ha! If she were to say yes, they'd be gone in minutes.

Olivia laughed and rested her forehead against his chin, sighing. "You think General Pope is ever letting me out of his sight?"

"If you run away, he won't have a choice." Fitz mumbled, pressing a kiss to her forehead

"You think he won't use every connection he has all the way up to the president to find me?"

"Your father is just a little bit terrifying."

"I know."

The air around them stilled and just for a minute they stood there, breathing together. His chest rose, hers fell.

"You want a glass of tea?" Olivia broke the comfortable silence first.

"Do we have time? I thought you said your dad was on his way home any minute now?" Fitz asked with a crinkle of his brows.

"I lied. I thought I wanted to be alone, but I don't. He'll be out all night. He's got a poker game with the Beenes. I'll probably be alone until about 10pm, maybe 11pm."

Fitz checked his watch; it was 7pm on the dot. "So, we've got time?"

"We've got time."

/

Thank God for time, too, because Olivia couldn't stop giggling as Fitz struggled with the buttons that held the top of her dress snug against her. His thick fingers kept slipping on the dainty buttons and Olivia couldn't hold in her laughter.

They were fooling around in her bedroom; the door was cracked just the slightest so they could hear if anyone decided to join them. Olivia's dressed was hiked up to her thighs, her lips swollen from endless kisses. Fitz's curls stuck out every which way and his face was flushed bright red.

"If you would just stop laughing and help me…" he grumbled between kisses.

She continued to giggle, yanking on his curls.

"I told you we could do it with my dress on since you can't seem to work a couple of buttons…"

"If you would just turn around so I could see what I was working _with,_ Olivia..."

The frustration runs thick in his voice and Olivia grinned against his mouth. He had a habit of pulling her out of her head and putting her in the moment like no other. For years, she'd tip toed around Fitz and his family at her father's behest, but that April day in the general store when he'd thrown her a shy smile, it'd been kismet. Since then, he'd proven time and time again that he was one of the few people who understood her.

Even if they were currently lost in translation.

"Fitzgerald, just lift up my dress."

"Olivia," he huffed. "I want the first time we make love to not be over your dress, preferably. I want it to be perfect. I want to see every inch of you. Lay you out beneath me, bare and unblemished by fabric…."

A shiver ran down her spine at his words, the timber of his voice, the feel of his strong hands resting on her back. If only he knew just how long she'd imagined his exact words. In turn, Olivia wanted to ride him until her thighs screamed, her legs trembled, and he sang her name.

"I'm not a virgin, Fitz. I'm a horny future law student on a time limit, stop being so stubborn." she hissed, although his words had made their mark. Her kiss softened; her fingers slowing before slipping from his hair all together.

Breaking away from his mouth, Olivia gave him a gentle smile before she turned her back to him. She tapped her shoulder to grab his attention and pointed at the buttons. Her mind went hazy with want as he began to undo each one, his fingers brushing against her bare flesh.

Once the last button, his hands drifted up her sides, to her shoulders, hooking underneath the thin straps slung over her shoulders. He moved to push the straps down, but Olivia stopped him. Slowly she climbed to her feet. Pivoting in place, she let the dress fall to the floor. Heat rose in her cheeks as she stood before him bare except for her underwear.

The look on Fitz's face sent shockwaves of wanton lust and slight terror through her tiny body. His gaze was unwavering. His normally electric blue eyes were clouded with lust and something else Olivia couldn't quite pinpoint.

Slowly he rose to his feet, looming over her. Without thinking, Olivia stepped back, his presence suddenly overwhelming. She moved to fold her arms over her chest, suddenly self-conscious, but Fitz stopped her. He caught a wrist in each of his hands and drew her in close until her bare breasts were smashed against the hard planes of his taut chest, encouraging her to wrap her arms around his waist. He trailed one hand up her back, and let the other fall to her hip.

"Never hide yourself from me. You look amazing…"

"Fitz…"

"Take your hair down for me?"

Never had she heard such a simple, yet complex request. On the surface, it was just hair, but her hair meant so much more. It'd been drilled into her at an early age by both her parents that the curls that grew naturally from her head weren't entirely acceptable to professional society. She'd learned to keep the straight, pulled back, tucked away. The only reason they were wrapped in a bun and resting atop her head today is because she'd felt it too hot to run her hair dryer.

"I-I…"

"Let me?" he whispered, carefully finding the band that held her hair in place. Gently he unraveled it. Olivia took note of the great care with which he moved, the gesture sending a flood of warmth and comfort spreading throughout her body.

As her curls hit her shoulders she fought to look up at him, uncertain of whether she wanted to see what was in his eyes. Would it be ignorant fascination? Fanciful amusement? As if sensing her nervousness, Fitz stuck a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face upwards and her eyes slipped shut.

"Look at me…"

She sighed.

"Liv…"

Their eyes met and Olivia and flinched. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart threatened to thud straight out of her chest. The lust was still present in his eyes, but the other thing, the thing she couldn't quite pinpoint moments ago was now clear as day; love.

He loved her.

And while they'd never said it aloud, she felt the same.

"Fi-"

His lips were on hers in an instant, swallowing his name as it left her tongue. She returned his fervor with the same passion, each trying to devour the other. There was nothing tentative in his touch as they consumed one another. Olivia's hands moved to hold his head in place, Fitz's pulled her closer as he pivoted them towards her bed. They fell back against the plush linen and her legs parted to grant him access to her core. He nipped at her mouth, tracing her lips with his tongue. Olivia moaned into his kiss wondering why she'd put this moment off for so long. They'd followed around in his car, but had never moved past touching. Now...now she needed more. She needed to feel him, see him, touch him as he had her.

"Fitz…" she mewled. "Make love to me…"

At her request, his kiss deepened, and his arms slithered underneath her lithe body, pushing her further back into the bed. Satisfied with her position, he leant back just enough to pull the white polo over his head. Seconds later he was on top of her again, kissing, nipping, and biting at her flesh. He whispered epithets of want and need against her skin. Olivia felt dizzy, as if she was being pulled apart and put back together with each caress, each kiss; irrevocably changed forever. What she'd originally labeled a summer fling, a way to blow off steam before starting law school, was proving to be more. Much more.

"I need you." she moaned as his teeth ran across nipple and her hands seized the back of his head. "Please…"

But her request would go unfulfilled, her words unanswered. So caught up in one another, neither had heard the front door open or close, nor the approaching footsteps until it was too late.

"Olivia, are you-" Eli Pope called out and seconds later Olivia's bedroom door banged open.

As soon as she heard the words along with the door knocking against the wall, she froze. Her fingers slipped from Fitz's curls and she pushed at his shoulders, panicked.

"Dad!"

"Shit!" Fitz pulled back and Olivia immediately scrambled to find something to cover herself with. She opted for the nearest thing in sight, a pillow, and held it to her chest until she could reach her dress.

Fitz dove for his shirt and Olivia's eyes caught those of her father's. The look on Eli Pope's face said it all. She knew that look, recognized it from years of watching her father hunt.

"Dad, don't!" but Eli had already stormed away.

"Fitz, run." Olivia pleaded as she dropped the pillow and stepped into her dress. Her entire body shook as she pulled it up, having no time to bother with any of the buttons. She crossed the room to her bedroom window, pulling it open as fast as she could. The familiar sound of a shotgun being cocked split the air and she looked at Fitz, fear all over her face.

"Go, out the window. Please. Run."

"He's going to shoot me? He's really going to fucking shoot me?" The panic was etched into his voice.

"I don't know, but please just go!"

Fitz nodded and made his way over to the window. He climbed onto the sill and glanced down at the ground. Thankfully Fitz didn't have more than nine or so feet until ground; Olivia's room was on the first floor.

"Go!" she urged, uncertain of what her father was doing or why it was taking so long for him to make his way back to her bedroom.

"Come with me, Liv. I don't want you here while he's waving a gun."

"He won't hurt me. Now please, _go_!"

With reluctance written all over his face, Fitz nodded. He jumped and Olivia stuck her head out the window to insure his landing. Once he popped back up, slightly wobbling, Olivia breathed a sigh of relief and watched as he took off running.

Her relief was short lived, however, as she heard her father's footsteps. Eli crossed the room, shoving her out of the way and taking aim through the open window.

"Dad, NO!" Olivia's body moved of its own volition, but it wasn't quite quick enough for the former general. Eli caught her wrist with one of his hands before she could knock the gun from his hand. Luckily enough, she managed to draw his attention, his ire.

Eli slunk back into her room, lowering the gun.

"Fix. Your. Clothes." his voice was sharp, steady, and _dangerous._

She didn't think her father would hurt her, but the look on Eli's face rooted her in place. Never had she seen her father so eerily calm, yet seething with rage.

Instead of obliging, Olivia walked over to her dresser and grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it over head.

"I'm not a little girl any more, Dad. What Fitz and I do is none of your-"

"Do you always have to be so _common._ " the words rolled off his tongue laced with malice. "Giving yourself to that, that... _boy -_ that man child of an even more pathetic father - like a dime a dozen call girl?"

A wave of hurt rocketed over Olivia at her father's words. Tears pooled behind her eyes. "You don't know Fitz, he's not-"

"I've known men like Fitzgerald Grant III all of my life. Silver spoon children who wouldn't know the ways of the world if they bit them on the ass. Privileged white boys who only know how to take. Especially from naive little girls too stupid to know better. I raised you better than this!"

"That's not him!"

"It is!" Eli bellowed, eyes full of fire. "And like your mother, you're willing to turn your back on your family to give them anything they want. Apparently having the entire world at their feet is not enough!"

At the mention of her mother, Olivia visibly recoiled. Maya Pope had walked out of Eli Pope's house eight years ago, leaving behind her wedding ring, and signed divorce papers. Neither Olivia nor Eli had any inclination that Maya was unhappy; she'd never acted as such. The wedding ring and divorce papers had said it all, though. A year later she'd reappeared, remarried to Dominic, a white British man, demanding primary custody of Olivia. She lost her custody bid and within the year, Olivia was in Switzerland for boarding school. In the last eight years, Olivia could almost count on one hand how many times she'd seen her mother, most of those times coming after her 18th birthday and without Eli's knowing or permission.

"Mom didn't turn her back on me; she turned her back on you because you're a controlling, overbearing, and miserable old man who wants -"

The slap was swift - hard - leaving a stunned Olivia, hand touching her tender cheek, in its wake. Eli Pope had never raised a hand to his daughter before; there was a first time for everything. Eyes deadlocked, the two stared at each other. Olivia watched as her father's gaze wavered ever so slightly.

The hard steel of his honey brown eyes softened. "Livvie, I'm - I didn't mean…."

But as Eli Pope's gaze relented, Olivia's hardened. The stinging in her cheek roared and she stiffened her upper lip, squared her shoulders. "Bye, Dad." she hissed, grabbing her shoes off her bedroom floor and slipping them on.

Before she had a chance to rethink what she was about to do, Olivia broke into a sprint. She tore through her house, snatching her purse off the coat rack in the hall, and ran to the front door.

"Olivia! Olivia, where are you going?" Eli yelled from behind her.

Ignoring her father and the strange pleading tone to his voice, Olivia shoved the aluminum screen door open and ran out into the night.

* * *

 _Pack yourself a toothbrush dear_  
 _Pack yourself a favorite blouse_  
 _Take a withdrawal slip_  
 _Take all of your savings out_  
 _'Cause if we don't leave this town_  
 _We might never make it out_


	2. Virginia II

**A/N:** Never expect an update from me this quickly again. Just being honest here. The only reason this is coming so quickly is because it was originally attached to the first chapter, but I cut it just to see what the interest level would be.

For Bujuman: Think very early 00s as a time frame. I've kept Liv's birth year at 79, but toyed with Fitz's. Instead of their normal age gap ~10+ years, I gave them 8. Also, just have to say, it's not that clear cut regarding Maya/Olivia/Eli and the custody fight over Olivia, which you'll find out later.

Everyone else: Thanks for entertaining my madness, it's much appreciated.

Metanoia update is almost done.

Oh, for the reader who asked: I am not from VA, but one of my best friend's is, specifically Chase City, hence the location.

-M

* * *

Through bushes and over chain-link fences, Fitz moved as fast as his feet would carry him. He'd yet to hear a gunshot, but wasn't willing to stop to listen for one until he knew he was in the clear. Finally, after what seemed like hours of running (he hated running), Fitz caught sight of his jeep perched against the curb. Adrenaline coursed through his body, his heart thumping madly in his chest as he jogged the rest of the way to the silver SUV. He leant against the driver's side door, head falling against the glass, to catch his breath.

What the hell just happened?

One minute he'd been admiring Olivia's beauty, every nerve ending in his body on fire as he sought to explore every inch of her skin; the next he'd been jumping out of a window, a mad man with a shotgun chasing after him. Humorless laughter wafted from his lips; he thought he'd left behind over protective fathers with shotguns ten years ago when he'd graduated high school. Clearly, he'd been wrong – almost deadly wrong. He knew the moment his eyes had locked on Olivia Pope months ago he'd end up dying because of her.

Knocking his head against the cool glass, Fitz kicked away from the vehicle and fumbled for his key in his pants pockets. Seizing the small piece of brass between his fingers, he opened his car door, and got in. He moved to take off, starting his car, but Olivia's face flashed across his mind; the panic in her eyes haunted him.

Olivia.

She was currently facing off with a mad man who more than likely still held a gun. Father or not, Eli Pope was terrifying. And while Olivia was certain her father wouldn't hurt her, Fitz couldn't say the same. Just the thought of a hand being raised against Olivia – even if it was just her father's hand - caused Fitz's blood to boil.

He had to go back.

Jerry Grant had been right about his son years prior, Fitz truly had no survival instincts. Any sane man would let sleeping dogs lie to avoid a buck shot in the ass, but Fitzgerald Grant wasn't a sane man; he was a man in love with an incredible young woman.

She'd hit him like a ton of bricks, her tiny body barreling into him like a freight train. He'd thrown her an innocent smile, not recognizing her as the same Olivia Pope with the braces and chubby cheeks, shyly following behind her father during town events in years past. When she'd responded with her own smile, a soft apology for bumping into him, her eyes unabashedly roaming his body, Fitzgerald Grant knew he'd met his match. Lo and behold the surprise that'd ricocheted off him when she'd revealed just whose daughter she was. Eli Pope made it no secret the disdain he held for the Grant family. Fitz knew he should've walked away at that point, chalked it up to a failed attempt at a summer fling and find his next, but Olivia Pope had a hold on him. He couldn't figure out how or why in such a short span of time, but the girl had him.

Shifting into drive, Fitz began to make his way back to her house. The slight fear of being shot still hung over his head, but she was worth that and so much more. He reached the end of the street, stopping at the stop sign, when out of the corner of his eye he saw her. Olivia. She was running in his direction. Her curls floated wildly against the wind; she'd thrown a Princeton t-shirt over her dress, and she was carrying her purse.

Immediately he threw his truck into park and grabbed his keys, clamoring out of the vehicle haphazardly.

"Olivia?" Fitz yelled, confusion coloring his tone.

He watched as she froze at the sound of her name; her head whipped back and forth and forth, searching for the source of the sound.

Again, he screamed. "OLIVIA!"

Their eyes met best they could through the falling darkness and Olivia shifted on her the pads of her feet. She looked uncertain, yet somehow determined.

"Liv?"

A grin broke across her face and she ran straight for him. Her legs carried her at a pace Fitz would've thought impossible for her someone of her stature, but within seconds she was in his arms.

He held tightly, lifting her off the ground, as he placed a kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you. I shouldn't have. What happened? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"Ask me again." Olivia demanded as she wiggled out of his hold.

Not quite grasping her words, Fitz set her down. In the impeding turn of dusk to darkness, her brown eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Ask me again. Ask me to run away with you again."

Mirthlessly he chuckled, dropping his forehead against hers. Was she being serious right now? After what had just happened? How was she even standing here?

"Ask!" she insisted, cheeks swelling into a grin as a lone tear slipped down her cheek.

At her behest, Fitz did just that."Olivia Carolyn Pope, run away with me?"

"Okay."

"What?"

"Okay. I'll run away with you, Fitz. Let's leave. Now. You and me. Right now. I don't care where we go, I just can't stay here. Let's go."

His ears were deceiving him. That's the only logically solution he could conclude while Olivia spoke. There wasn't even the slightest hint of hesitation to her voice, but he can't believe she's being serious right now. An hour ago, she wouldn't even entertain his proposition as anything other than a joke and now ten minutes after being caught with their pants down by her father….

"Really?" he asked. "Are you sure because I wasn't joking. At all. And if we do this you know your dad…"

"I don't care. Let's go. You, me, and California on the horizon. That's all I want." Olivia didn't give him the chance to respond, instead, she leant up on her tippy toes, her mouth finding his, and kissed him deeply, unapologetically. Urgency and hunger propelled Fitz forward and her returned her passion, pushing past her lips to taste her tongue.

A honk of a horn broke them apart. They turned just in time to hear the driver yell a gruff ' _fucking kids!'_ before speeding around them.

They laughed, Olivia's forehead falling against his chest.

"Now." She whispered. "Let's go."

"Now." He agreed.

/

This was quite possibly the most impulsive thing she'd ever done in her entire twenty years of life. With no jacket, just fifty dollars in cash, and an unbuttoned dress, Olivia Pope happily sat in the passenger's seat of her boyfriend's Jeep, watching as he maneuvered through what little traffic there was. Their route flashed before them on the chunky GPS that sat on the dashboard. Above them the sky was dark; they'd been on the road for about forty minutes now. Fitz drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other gripping her left knee.

The soft sounds of smooth jazz filtered from the radio. Neither spoke much, both just content to enjoy the other's company. Every now and then she'd touch her fingers to her cheek to probe the still tender skin, disbelief still riding high. Elijah Pope had hit her. Never in her twenty years of life could she remember her father raising a hand in her direction. His threats, while not empty, had never been accompanied by promises of physical violence. Tonight, he'd caught her off guard. Sharp, jarring, and harsh, Eli Pope proved that his years of army training, though now tempered slightly by age, were just as strong as ever. That slap had been the last straw; the last leg, and the perfect catalyst for Olivia to justify her break.

She loved her father, she truly did; and she was grateful for all he'd done for her, but the man's expectations of her were unbearable. For years she'd been rising to each challenge he'd set in front of her without hesitation, but it was becoming too much. It'd been too much for years if she were being honest with herself. She'd been at the top of her class since the age of twelve, never faltering. The best; she had to be it, she was it, but it was never enough for her father. One accomplishment - no matter how grand - was just a drop in the ocean to Eli Pope. He was always thinking about the next without thinking about the toll it took on Olivia. And she'd had enough.

Shifting in her chair, she smirked to herself as Fitz's grip remained in place. She leant forward, grasping the sun visor and flipped it down. Her eyes met her reflection and she cringed.

Well, she was definitely a sight for sore eyes. Her hair was everywhere, there were tear tracks trailing down her cheeks, and she could see a bit of discoloration starting to form along her cheek near her jawline. Shit. Hopefully the bruise wouldn't pop too brightly beneath her skin, after all, she was perfectly tan from the summer sun. She wasn't going to tell Fitz what'd happened with her dad - he didn't need to know - and if she could avoid him seeing it, all the better.

 _Damn it,_ she cursed internally, huffing. She really should've packed for this venture; finding a good foundation was a fete on a good day. Finding one on the road would probably be impossible. Something told her, though, that Eli wouldn't have sat back and watched as she gathered her things to leave. God, she wasn't even wearing a bra; if her dad had walked in ten minutes later, she might've not been wearing underwear either. At that thought, she began to laugh to herself, chuckle wholeheartedly at the absurdity of her impulsiveness. At their impulsiveness.

"What's so funny over there, beautiful?" Fitz asked, turning her eyes away from the road for a brief moment to look at her.

"It's just...It's 10pm on a Sunday night and we're driving to California from Virginia. I only have $50 on me and I'm not even wearing a bra."

Fitz chortled, shaking his head before turning his attention back to the road. "We can stop at a store somewhere along the way and get you somethings. I'm going to need a few things, too, I didn't grab everything I needed when we stopped at my place."

"I have $50 until we can find an ATM, Fitz. I don't know how many things you think I can get with that, but -"

"If it's money you're worried about, don't be. We're okay. I have more than-"

Her head shot up and she quickly shut the visor at the mention of money. "I thought you weren't using your father's money any more?" Olivia asked, tilting her body to look at him in order to gauge the veracity of his words. "After what Big Jerry said about -"

"I'm not." he interrupted, finality in his tone. "I would never. Not after that. But I am resourceful enough on my own, Livvie. I might not make what my father does, but I am an associate at one of the best law firms in Richmond. I have no student debt and I own property. In other words, if you need it, I have it." he gave her knee a good squeeze as a means of reassurance.

"I have money, too, I hope you you know. I don't expect you to bankroll this entire venture. I've got my personal savings that my dad can't touch. I was going to use it for school, but I can use part here, too." she wasn't about to let his father's accusations of gold digging earn a speck of truth. She was going to pay her own way. Besides, she'd banked most of her money from nannying all summer, which meant she had a little over fifteen hundred saved for a rainy day - or in this case - a cross country adventure.

"It's fine, Liv."

"We're splitting this and don't tell me otherwise. I just need an ATM."

She watched as he rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his chiseled cheeks. "If you insist and if that is what you want, I'm just glad that we're here."

His words caused flowers to bloom in the pit of her stomach. Fitzgerald Grant had a way of making her feel like her voice mattered, like she - her opinions, thoughts, and dreams - mattered.

Smiling at him, she then glanced down at the hand resting on her knee. She threaded her fingers through his just as her stomach rumbled from hunger.

Fitz guffawed at the sound. "I think we should find somewhere to stop for food, too, before you resort to cannibalism."

It was Olivia's turn to roll her eyes; she shook her head and then turned her attention back to the open road. "Just drive."

40 miles down, 2,219 to go.


	3. Tennessee

**A/N:** First, sending a huge feliz cumpleaños to my prima. dale, prima! she's the main reason y'all keep getting more stuff out of me. she entertains my absurdity and lets me bounce ideas off of her, so a big happy birthday to her.

Second, for those who are reading Metanoia, too, I've been told that FF didn't trigger and update notification, so that was updated the other day for those who didn't get the notification.

Lastly, I write to distract myself from what's going on in the world. After yesterday I didn't know if I could finish this update because there wasn't a distraction big enough to combat all the horror. I did it though and I hope y'all enjoy. Please indulge in a LOT of self care and love each other fiercely.

As usual, I own nothing. Scandal is Shonda's and the lyrics here are Vickie Lawrence's.

Bless,

M

* * *

The first thing Fitzgerald noticed as he woke to the morning sun, was numbness in his left hand he'd used to prop up his head; the second was just how dangerously close he was to swallowing a mouthful of hair. With her head tucked underneath his chin and her right leg thrown across both of his, Olivia slept soundly against him, her curls flowing freely. They were parked at a rest stop just off the highway right outside of Knoxville. It was early morning and the sun had just risen over the horizon, flooding the SUV in bright yellow light. They'd been on the road for a little over seven six hours before deciding to camp out at the rest stop for a quick sleep, ignoring the 'no overnight rest' signs. Luckily enough, they'd yet to be towed.

Fitz yawned, grunting as he shifted against the coarse Felt of the SUV's interior. Tonight, they had to find a hotel to book. Another night in the back of his Jeep and Fitz was certain he'd need a chiropractor. Against him, Olivia shifted to combat his antsy movements, snuggling in closer. A smile spread across his face at the feeling of her tiny body tucked tightly against his. An air of disbelief still hung over him. Somehow, he'd managed to convince her to run with him. It'd never been his intentions to sweep her away so impulsively (okay it had, though never under such circumstances), but now that they were here, he couldn't apologize for it. She didn't know it, or at least not yet, but she was everything to him. Every emotion and every thought he had was controlled by the look on her face. Even now as he glanced down at her, barely able to see the slope of her nose and the angle of her jaw from his position, the peace with which she slept kept him calm. Just being able to feel her next to him kept him centered.

"Stop staring. It's unnerving." Olivia mumbled, the sound of her voice catching him off guard. She shifted in place, turning to rest her chin on his chest. Her hair was everywhere. Large curls, small curls all protruding outward in different directions; the side she'd slept on remained stuck to her face.

"How'd you even know I was staring, you were asleep?" Fitz questioned, bringing up a hand to brush back her frizzing curls so he could see her eyes. Exhaustion tugged at her cheeks; they hadn't slept long; maybe four at the most hours.

"Because you _always_ stare."

He opened his mouth to rebuke her claims, but quickly closed it. She was right; he always did stare. They'd spent a handful of nights together at his apartment, mostly on accident. She'd fall asleep on his couch after a film and he never had the heart (nor will) to wake her. He'd find himself staring at her in the morning, watching the rise and fall of her chest and the way her mouth parted as she slept.

"What time is it?" she yawned, her lips calling to him.

Unable to stop himself, Fitz moved in for a kiss, only to be denied last minute, his lips bumping against her forehead.

"My breath smells awful."

"You think mine smells like roses?"

"Is that how you expect to get a kiss out of me?"

Fitz chuckled and moved to sit up best his height would allow him. Olivia followed suit, folding her legs in the cramped space so he'd have more room.

"I guess this means we need to find some supplies and a bathroom." He laughed, knuckles dragging across his chin as he scratched at a bit of stubble.

"Definitely. My hair's a mess. I need a beauty supply and a good comb. I really can't believe I left without anything. I'm surprised I even remembered to grab my purse."

"I'm surprised you came. I was on my way back to get you and then you were there. The relief…." he reached for one of her hands, threading their fingers together and squeezing.

"You were going to face down my dad and his shotgun again? Really?" Bemusement in her tone.

"A buckshot in the ass wouldn't have been too bad." he shrugged. "I don't know what he said to you to lead you here with me, but look at us." He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle tenderly.

At his words, Fitz watched as Olivia dropped her head, her eyebrows knitting. She looked pensive, as if she was struggling to put her thoughts into coherent words. Olivia was by far the smartest person he knew, but he also knew that sometimes (like now) she struggled with emotion. "Liv?"

"I'm fine, Fitz; let's just head inside the store and see what they've got. I think we're just outside of Knoxville so we should either find somewhere to stop around here, or drive to the next city to grab clothes and what not."

He knew better not to push. "I was thinking we could stop in Nashville, find a mall, and stay the night; sleep in an actual bed?"

"Oh, I'd like that. The back of your Jeep was not made for sleeping." As if on cue, her back cracked for effect.

They both began to laugh when a knock sounded against the back-hatch window. Fitz looked up to see a wiry, tall man with thinning black hair and grey whiskers staring at them.

"You can't sleep here." The stranger called through the glass.

"Clearly, we're not. We're just sitting. Neither of us is sleeping." Olivia shot back.

Unintelligible grumbling fell from the man's lips before he rolled his eyes and waved off Olivia and Fitz, trekking back into the station.

Fitz glanced at Olivia, amused by how she'd handled the stranger. "We did sleep here."

"And? We're not sleeping _now._ Not my fault he didn't catch us ten minute ago."

The pair exchanged a challenging glance; Olivia's eyes asked ' _am I right or am I right_ ' while Fitz's didn't even attempt to challenge her; he knew better.

Instead, he just stared at her in amusement. She returned his look of merriment with a smirk, and exaggerated roll of her eyes before throwing her head back to stretch. The yellow sunlight bounced off her brown skin, causing it to shine brightly. Fitz studied her intently, cataloging the purse of lips, the angle of nose and . . .

Was that a bruise? Just on her jawline sat a purplish mark that looked oddly enough like a bruise. That wasn't there yesterday. Come to think of it, her cheek looked a little swollen, too.

"Liv," Fitz's voice was suddenly serious, steady. "What happened to your face?" He had his suspicions, all revolving around her father, but needed verbal confirmation.

Instead of answering him, however, Olivia looked away, fingers brushing along her jaw. "Nothing." She moved to exit the hatch.

"Olivia." he caught her wrist in his palm, stopping her. "Liv."

She wouldn't look at him.

"Liv?"

"I need a toothbrush and to pee, please let me go."

Narrowing his eyes, Fitz studied her profile, the bruise ebbing at his sensibility, yet he did as she instructed. He had half the mind to turn the Jeep around, find Eli Pope, and . . . the sound of the hatch opening interrupted his thoughts. He looked up to find Olivia, feet on the ground, slipping off the Princeton t-shirt. He caught sight of her bare back, the dress hanging open, threatening to slip off her shoulders; she'd never had the chance to re-button it last night.

Fitz scrambled to his feet. "What are you doing? Wait…" A surge of possessiveness seized him as his fingers found the buttons; he began to re-latch each small white piece of plastic through its hole. He didn't want anyone to see her in even the most minute state of undress except for him.

"Covering this mess until I can find some hair products." She explained, stepping away as he finished the last button.

Fitz's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he watched, curiosity blooming across his face as she wrapped her shirt around her head, manipulating the cotton into an ornate low bun of curls hidden by fabric. One single curly strand stubbornly stuck out, curling against her forehead; he wanted nothing more than to tug on it and watch it bounce back into place, but refrained.

"Ta-da!" she spun in place, face beaming with pride.

Fitz was impressed, but the bruise still caught his eye; a dark spot disrupting the smooth deep brown of her perfect skin.

She must've caught him looking because her fingers trailed up to her cheek, "It's nothing, okay?" with that, Olivia turned on her heels and headed towards the rest center.

A hefty sigh sauntered from Fitz's lips and he followed her.

/

Thirty minutes later, they're back on the road with fresh teeth, a few supplies, and a game plan; they'd be staying the night in Nashville. But not all was right between the pair. As far as Olivia could tell, Fitz wasn't talking to her. He was mad. His clenched jaw and white knuckled grip on the steering wheel confirmed her suspicions.

Olivia sighed, her head falling back against the headrest. Why was he being this way? What good could come of him knowing what had happened? He'd be pissed at her father and he'd be mad at himself for no reason. Confirming the suspicions Olivia knew he had would only serve to sour their adventure - a much needed escape from reality for her. Besides, the bruise would go away in a day or two.

Casting a glance a sideways glance at him, a devious smirk crossed her face. If he was going to continue to try and freeze her out, she was going to make it as difficult as possible. Without his permission, she began to fumble with the buttons on the radio. Never had she been one for constant music during a drive, choosing to savor the silence and the hum of tires against pavement instead; Olivia flipped through channel after channel. Her brows knitted in determination as she bypassed song after song she wasn't familiar with, slowly realizing that they needed to hit up a music store, too, before getting back in the car. She might've enjoyed silence and the open road more than music and an open road, but a two-thousand mile journey couldn't be completed in total silence.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she heard the opening chords of a song she knew. _The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia_ ; one of her mother's favorite songs and one of the only Country songs Olivia knew. Grinning, she turned it up just enough so that it wouldn't drown her out, but still provide good back up to her voice. She was not going to be ignored.

" _He was on his way home from Candletop_

 _Been two weeks gone and he'd thought he'd stop at Webb's_

 _And have him a drink before he went home to her_

 _Andy Wolloe said hello_

 _And he said, "Hi, what's doing, Wo?"_

 _Said, "Sit down, I got some bad news, it's gonna hurt."_

 _He said, "I'm your best friend and you know that's right_

 _But your young bride ain't home tonight_

 _Since you been gone, she's been seeing that Amos boy, Seth."_

 _Well, he got mad and he saw red_

 _And Andy said, "Boy, don't you lose your head_

 _Cause to tell you the truth, I've been with her myself."_

Olivia sang timidly at first. While she didn't possess a voice made for country music, she _could_ sing. In high school, she'd almost joined the Senior Girls' Acapella group, but stage fright and her father's characterization of the activity as being frivolous, stopped her. She turned in her seat, eyeing Fitz as the song hit the chorus. Any nerves she had melted away as his jaw slackened; was he trying not to smile? As loud as she could, while remaining on key, Olivia sang the chorus.

 _That's the night that the lights went out in Georgia_

 _That's the night that they hung an innocent man_

 _Well, don't trust your soul to no backwoods southern lawyer_

 _Cause the judge in the town's got bloodstains on his hands_

The smile that tugged at Fitz's cheeks was unmistakable, though it was clear that he was still fighting it. The louder she sang, all and any inhibitions falling away, the harder it was for Fitz to stay stone-faced. Finally, he cracked and Olivia declared victory as he joined her in singing along to the radio. The Jeep eased through traffic and for four glorious minutes, it was just Olivia, Fitz, and the music.

But like any zeitgeist, big or small, the moment soon came to an end. The song faded out and the disc jockeys began to greet the morning commuters. Fitz leaned forward to turn the radio down and Olivia turned her attention back to the passing scenery. Billboards, trees, and cars.

"I didn't know you could sing." Fitz commented, tossing her a sideways glance.

Olivia picked at a stray piece of thread hanging from the hem of her dress. "It's a bit of a hidden talent. I don't do it often."

"You should…."

He reached across the armrest and grabbed her hand, threading their fingers together. It was a tender gesture that caused flowers to bloom in her belly. Small gestures of intimacy were so rare in her youth that until Fitz, she didn't know how to respond to them. Hugs, kisses, and just general displays of affection - back pats, verbal praise - were foreign to her. Growing up with General Pope, she learned to do without; she learned that affection signaled weakness and praise was reserved only for perfection.

"You're brilliant, beautiful, and you can sing. You're unreal, you know that?"

She blushed, ducking her head in slight embarrassment. Her eyes caught the way their fingers intertwined; the contrast of their skin color and the size difference of their digits was glaring and obvious, but not what Olivia focused on. What held her attention was just how easily her hand fit in his, how comforting his too long fingers were wrapped around hers, and how their palms fit together just right.

"Which is why that bruise makes my blood boil, Livvie. No one should ever, _ever_ raise their hand to you…" he interrupted her observation with one of his own.

So, he just wasn't going to let it go.

She huffed, cursing herself for not seeing that they'd end up back here, and untangled their hands. Why couldn't he let this go?

Fine.

"He smacked me. Okay? My dad smacked me. Is that what you want to hear?" Olivia confessed. "I said something to him I shouldn't have and he hit me. Now will you stop asking?"

Horns honked, Olivia's belt tightened, and her heart jumped in her chest.

Suddenly Fitz had jerked the car across three lanes of traffic.

"Fitz!"

"We're turning around at the next exit."

"What?"

"We're going back to Virginia."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to kill him."

"See, this is exactly why I didn't tell you last night!" Olivia hissed, yanking at the tightened belt that cut into her chest. "You do realize my father is a retired United States Army General. He's commanded troops in actual war, right?"

"Is that supposed to scare me? He hit you!"

Above them a sign signaled that the next exit was up in three miles - Cookeville. What was with Tennessee and adding 'ville' to everything?

"He's my father!" she supplemented, but knew it was a poor excuse before the words even left her mouth. It was a day later and she was only just wrapping her mind around the fact that her father had raised a hand to her.

"And? He hit you in your face."

"I made a stupid comment; I got-"

"A man never raises his hand to a woman - daughter or not!"

She went silent. Fitz was right.

"Has he hit you before?"

"What? No! Never! My father may be a lot of things, but he'd never. He even apologized after." Olivia explained. Eli Pope had apologized and from the look on his face, he, too, had been shocked by his own actions.

Fitz's jaw clenched again, both hands gripped the steering wheel. The anger radiated off him in waves.

"He's never hit me before. Ever. That isn't Eli Pope. I know you don't want to believe me because you don't like my dad, but he hasn't. Ever. I think last night opened an old wound for him." Olivia thought of her mom. "I think I hurt him."

"Are you being serious right now? You're shitting me, right? He hits you and you're defending him for...for what?"

"It's not that simple, Fitz." she sighed and turned to look out the window. How could she explain the absolute absurdity that was her parents and their dysfunction that permeated every facet of her life? Her dad's prejudice engendered by her mother's choices? "When I was twelve, my mom left. She packed her bags and took off while I was at a friend's house. I came home to my dad sitting alone holding a note from my mom. All it said was that she had to go and that I'd understand later."

Fitz's grip slackened on the wheel and they pass up the exit ramp.

"I was hurt and angry. All I knew is that she'd left us - me. And then my dad explained that she'd been cheating on him; showed me photos of my mom and this white guy looking like a lot more than just coworkers. I felt awful for my dad for a long while. The year she was gone was hell. I couldn't understand how my mom could do that to him, to us; betray us like that. And then my mom came back, remarried to Dominic, the guy from the photos.

She came back for me, Fitz. She made sure I knew that she was there for me. And I'd missed her so, so much. I didn't understand why it had to be so extreme between my parents; why it was all or nothing for me, but they both fought for full custody. In the end, my mom lost. You don't go against Eli Pope and win." darkly she chuckled. "The day the judge's decision came down, my father told me I didn't have a mother any more. That she made a choice to be a bed wench and that was that." Even just saying the phrase soured Olivia's stomach.

"A bed wench?"

"It doesn't mean anything good…" she frowned, not wanting to get into it right now. "But seeing you and me together reminded my dad of my mom's betrayal. Add onto that me saying something I shouldn't have and…"

"It still doesn't make up for the fact that he assaulted you?" Fitz interrupted, finality in his tone.

To continue to attempt to explain would be useless, Olivia decided. Fitz wouldn't understand what she was trying to say, at least not right now at 9 a.m. Fitzgerald Grant was an optimist - a idealist. Olivia was almost certain he'd never considered the optics of their relationship in depth, which was exactly what her confrontation with her father yesterday evening had boiled down to. Eli Pope saw his daughter's boyfriend as a rejection of him.

"You're right, it doesn't." Olivia relented, realizing too that she couldn't defend the action within itself, even if she did think she understood the psychology behind it. "You're right." She reiterated by reaching across to squeeze one of his hands that held a death grip on the steering wheel. Fitz responded by threading their fingers together once more, bringing her knuckles up to his lip and kissing each one, his touch tender.

"I'm okay, though, Fitz. I am. We're together and we're going to California. We're _driving_ to California…" again the absurdity of their adventure hit her. "And there's nowhere else I'd rather be. Even if we're both desperately in need of a shower." She wiggled her nose for effect.

"I know, Livvie, you're…you don't get it, you're one of the most important people in my life. The thought of someone hurting you hurts me."

"I'm fine. Now, how many more miles to Nashville? I want to buy a cowboy hat."

"A cowboy hat?"

"Well, if we're headed west, we should at least dress the part."

/

About an hour later, they reach Nashville. Sweat rolls down the back of Fitz's neck as he maneuvers through traffic in search of the Holiday Inn promised to them by a freeway sign a few miles back. The early morning sun began to give a way to the high noon heat and blazing sun. Fitz made a mental note to add sunglasses to their shopping list. In his back pocket, he could feel his cell phone buzz, but he ignored it, already knowing who it was; he had several missed calls from her already in the past twenty-four hours.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Olivia's eyes searched the Nashville skyline. Seeing her smile meant the world to him. But that bruise. It was all he thought about. He'd promised to drop the subject, but it proved to be a lot harder than he'd thought.

"Oh! Right there, Fitz!"

His eyes jerked in the direction of Olivia's voice to find the Holiday Inn directly to the left of them. Carefully he slid the vehicle over into the turning lane and then pulled into the parking lot. It didn't take long before he found a spot and parked. Olivia moved to get out first, but he stopped her with a hand on her thigh before she could unbuckle her belt.

"Look at me, Liv?"

He listened as she sighed heavily, watched as she rolled her eyes, but turned to face him nonetheless. Gently he cupped her face, his thumb running along the bruise.

"I told you, I'm fine."

"I know." He promised, drawing her mouth to his. He nipped at her bottom lip, humming as she responded in kind, tilting her body into the kiss and reaching for the back of his neck to pull him close. Their noses bumped together and goose-flesh began to pimple along Fitz's skin as Olivia's fingers found the curls at the nape of his neck, toying with them. Her tongue ran along his bottom lip causing Fitz to moan.

Damn this woman.

If she kept this up, they were never going to make it out of the car, let alone to the mall.

Mustering all his strength and self-control, Fitz pulled away, dropping his forehead against hers. He could feel her eyebrows knit together against his skin and he chortled breathy.

"I wasn't done…" Olivia whined.

"If you keep that up, we'll never make it out of the hotel. Hell, we'll never make it into the hotel."

"You're awful."

"And you're sin on a summer's day."

Reluctantly they broke apart, Fitz lamenting the loss of her skin against his. Together they got out of the SUV and headed inside, hand in hand.

The pea green front desk staffed by a thin blonde-haired man in an equally as pea green jacket greeted them as they entered the building. His name tag read Billy.

"Hello sir, miss; how can I help you two today?"

"We just need a room for tonight."

"Just a night? Passing through?"

"We are; we're headed out to California."

"Oh, well I hope you enjoy your stay here in Nashville and come back soon to stay a little longer. Now, as far as rooms go, it'll be $113.97."

Fitz reached for his wallet and handed over his credit card. The concierge quickly slid it and then handed over two keys once the card cleared.

"Get your receipt so I can keep track of how much money I owe you." Olivia instructed.

A look of incredulity crossed Fitz's face. "You don't owe me anything, Livvie. I'm paying for this and you're _not_ paying me back. You bought breakfast and got gas this morning."

"I told you we're splitting this in half, which includes…"

Olivia didn't have a chance to finish her thought, the concierge cleared his throat, signaling to the bickering couple that they had an audience. Fitz shook his head, a terse smile on his face.

"Do you two have any bags a bellboy can grab for you?" Billy asked.

"We don't," Olivia answered. "But if you could point us in the direction of the nearest mall, that'd be great."

After checking into their room, the pair found themselves in 100 Oaks Mall, ambling through a thin crowd in search of an ATM. They held hands and made small talk. It was nice, Fitz thought, being in public with Olivia like this. Back home they always had to be careful. While there were five towns in Mecklenburg County, Eli Pope kept a close eye on Chase City, especially when Olivia was home. Which meant that most of the six months they'd spent together, they'd spent dodging prying eyes and whispering voices. A lot of time had been spent in Fitz's apartment, though most of it had been PG. There'd been times where he wanted to push her further, but hadn't. He'd kept his libido in check, (painfully) waiting for her to approach him.

But in turn, they'd gotten to know each other well, though Fitz forever felt like he'd barely just scratched the surface with Olivia. There was always something more to her. As they moved through the mall, he pulled her close, listening as she rattled on about needing to find a record store to provide their trip with a bit of background noise. They turned a corner towards the food court when Olivia yelped. She pulled away from him and ran towards a display window. Fitz followed her, immediately shaking his head as he saw what she had.

"I'm definitely buying it." She declared, pointing to the delicate white cowboy hat resting atop the head of a mannequin.

Yup; Olivia Pope was definitely a maze Fitzgerald Grant was almost certain he'd never figure out.


	4. Tennesse II

A/N: So this is pretty much a 'i'm still here' update? Something I started working on ages ago and figured I'd publish because I need a distraction from the real world. If you know me + know my Twitter, you probably are aware of the fact that I recently lost my mom to her struggle with kidney disease, which has put me into a deep fog I'm slowly climbing out of. I'm slowly getting back into the swing of real world things and so I thought I'd put this out. I can't promise anything else will be updated in the near future nor would I right now as I try to find my footing again.

This counts for my other fic Metanoia, too.

I hope you enjoy.

Take care.

-M

* * *

In a little more than twenty-four hours, Fitzgerald Grant concluded that Olivia Pope's main goal in life was to drive him crazy. It was the only feasible conclusion he could draw as she spent nearly three hours in the bathroom, primping and pampering herself. They'd spent the day traversing one of several local malls, buying clothes and necessities before hunting down what Olivia had called a 'Beauty Supply.' He'd never seen so many wigs and pieces of hair not attached to a human head in his entire life. Then there was the smell. Olivia had called it cocoa butter and Shea butter. Whatever it was, it smelt heavenly and he wanted nothing more than to buy an entire vat, dip Olivia in it, and devour her whole; a thought he couldn't quite quell. She'd been toying with him all day – pushing his buttons and keeping him at arm's length. Bathing suit shopping, bra shopping…she was trying to kill him.

Right now, he couldn't stop thinking about how she was just on the other side of the bathroom door, deliciously warm water rolling down her buttery brown skin, her full lips parted as she massaged soap across –

In his back pocket, his phone buzzed. He huffed in frustration knowing full well who it was. He'd called her first and now he wasn't returning her calls; if he didn't answer soon, he ran the risk of igniting her rage. He needed her right now, he couldn't do that. With a resigned sigh, he answered his phone, and headed from the hotel room and into the hall.

"Mel." He began to pace.

"I've left you six voicemails. What's the point of paying a cellphone bill when you don't answer your phone?"

"I'm fine; thanks for asking, Mel."

"Fitz, you know what I mean. You call me in a huff, leave a message about needing to talk and then I don't hear from you for almost two days. You know I've already signed the divorce papers. I'm filing them tomorrow so if this is what you want to discuss…"

"No, no. The divorce is fine. I'm not contesting it, I told you I wouldn't. You've moved on, I've moved on. You're happy and so am I."

"What's her name?"

"What?"

"Her name; you've moved on, so what's her name?"

"We're not going to discuss her; it doesn't matter. I called because I need your help." It almost hurt for him to choke out those words, but he didn't know who else to turn to in this situation.

"Go on, I'm listening."

"My father forced me out of Jones and Shaw."

An audible gasp sounded from the other end of the phone. "Why?"

"For one he didn't approve of our divorce and for two, he doesn't approve of the girl I'm seeing." Fitz explained; he couldn't believe he was telling this all to his ex-wife.

"So, it's true, then?"

His brows furrowed and he stopped pacing. "What's true?"

"You're seeing Olivia Pope."

"What?"

"You don't have to feign confusion, Fitz; I don't care. She's a bit young, though, isn't she?"

"How do you know I'm -"

"You're with her now, aren't you? According to my mother, her father's tearing apart Chase City looking for her and she's with you. Explains why you didn't answer your phone." Mellie rambled on and Fitz could feel his blood pressure start to rocket.

"Mellie, will you just stop and listen for a second?" He hissed, his mind suddenly spiraling in several different directions.

"I am listening, Fitz, but you're giving me little to go on here. You were let go from Jones and Shaw. Your father threatened to pull his business, didn't he?"

"Of course he did; you know Big Jerry."

"Sadly, I do. I'm glad I don't have to pretend to like that man over Thanksgiving dinner anymore."

"You chose to pretend."

"I wanted to be a good wife."

"By kissing the ass of the man I hate?"

"I'm hanging up now." There was static on the other end.

"Mellie, I'm sorry! Please…don't hang up. I need you."

A heavy sigh met Fitz's ear. "What do you need from me?"

"I need you to get a hold of Morgan & Meyers for me. Put in a good word; help me get hired."

"You're Fitzgerald Grant II, you do know that, right? You ranked second in our class."

"And you ranked first. Mel, they made me an offer before I took Jones and Shaw ages ago. I need you to lay the work; see if I can slide in still."

"Why not try any firms in the rest of Richmond?"

Fitz went silent, the frustration in his body coiling around his belly. She knew why.

"Big Jerry's blocking you from them, too. I'll see what I can do, Fitz."

"Don't give me that, Jeff Meyers always loved you. He was despondent when you chose to leave legal for politics."

"I said I'll see what I can do, Fitz. Why are you in such a panic anyways? It's not like you're hurting for money."

"I made a few impulsive buys without thinking about my full financial situation at the moment."

"Are you destitute, Fitz?"

"No, I'm not. I just promised someone the world and I need to know I can deliver it without a bounced check and declined credit card that's all."

"You must really like Olivia."

"What?"

"You promised her the world and you're asking _me_ to help you give it to her. You must really like her."

"I can't believe I'm about to say this to you, but I do."

"I'm glad; from what I hear, she's a good girl. Her father might kill you, but she's a good girl."

He couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped his lips at that point. "So, are you going to pull some strings for me then?"

"I'll call Jeff during my lunch. Until then, if you need the money, Fitz, I haven't taken anything out of our joint account. It still stands as is."

"I'm not taking your money."

"I thought we got past this chauvinism, Fitz…."

"I'm not taking money from my wife – my ex-wife – to spend on my girlfriend." Fitz hissed, ready to slam his phone shut. He could only grin and bear it for so long with Mellie before her haughty attitude rubbed him the wrong way.

"Pride was always your sin. It's fine. I'll call you later. Bye."

Before he had a chance to save anything else, the line went dead. Fitz hung his head in frustration making a mental note to check his savings account later, along with his credit card balances. He might've not been destitute in a sense, but robbing Peter to pay Paul wasn't something he was accustomed to doing. He'd been let go from Jones and Shaw nearly two months ago and learning to juggle his finances without a stable income had proven to be a harsh lesson for him. And while he knew he had access to his trust, which would solve all monetary issues he'd had at the moment, he'd promise Olivia he was done with using his father's money. He wanted to be a man who could stand on his own.

Sighing, Fitz leaned back against the wall, shutting his eyes. He wasn't going to let the outside world ruin this adventure for him; he was going to focus on Olivia and worry about the money later.

"Fitz?"

Fitz opened his eyes and turned toward the voice to find Olivia's head poking out from behind the door.

"What are you doing?"

He pushed back off the wall and forced a smile on his face. "Are you finally ready?" he called, smiling as he watched a loose curl sway against her forehead.


End file.
